The Outsiders
by MasterCaster
Summary: In Lincoln's world there are two types of people. You could be a soc, on of the rich society kids, and get away with anything. Or if you weren't lucky you could be a greaser, like he was. Lincoln knew where his loyalties lay: with his brothers Loki and Loni. One-Shot, Outsiders AU. Based on the book by S.E. Hinton


**This** **is dedicated to Emmaelise401.**

 **Loud House is owned by Nickelodeon**

 **The Outsiders is by S. E. Hinton (a.k.a one of my favorite books)**

 **Note: A few things in the story will be different from the Outsiders novel and Loud House Canon so don't be mad if you see something that isn't in any of the Canon's.**

 **Lincoln Loud/ Ponyboy Curtis**

 **Loki Loud/ Darry Curtis**

 **Loni Loud/ SodaPop Curtis**

 **Clyde Mcbride/ Johnny Cade**

 **Lane Loud/ Two-Bit Mathews**

 **Luke Loud/ Steve Randle**

 **Dallas Winston is still the same.**

 **The story will mostly be in Lincoln's (Ponyboy) POV.**

 **And here we go!**

* * *

 **Royal Woods, Michigan**

 **Year: 1965**

When I stepped out into the bright sunlight of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home. I was wishing I looked like Paul Newman, he looks tough and I don't. But I guess my own looks aren't so bad. I do admire my greenish-gray eyes but I wish they were more gray because I hate most have green eyes, but I have to content with what I have. My hair is far more unique than most people's hairdo's, one reason because I was born with white hair and that it's longer than a lot of boys wear theirs, squared off in the back and long at the front and sides, but I'm a greaser and most of my neighborhood rarely bothers to get a trim. Besides, I look better with long hair.

I had a long walk home with no company, but I usually line it anyway, for no reason except that I like to watch movies undisturbed so I can get into them and live them with the actors. When I see a movie with someone it's kind of uncomfortable, like having someone read your book over your shoulder. I'm different that way. I mean, my second-oldest brother, Loni, who is sixteen-going-on-seventeen, never cracks a book at all, and my oldest brother, Loki works too long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a picture, so I'm not like them. And nobody in our gang digs movies and books the way I do, For a while there, I thought I was the only person in the world that did. So I loned it.

Loni tries to understand, at least, which is more than Loki does. But then, Loni is different from anybody; he understands everything, almost. Like he's never hollering at me all the time the way Loki is, or treating me as if I was six instead of fourteen. I love Loni more than I've ever loved anyone, even Mom and Dad. He's always happy-go-lucky and grinning, while Loki's hard and firm and rarely grins at all. But then, Loki's gone through a lot in his twenty years, Loni will never grow up at all. I don't know which way's the best. I'll find out one of these days.

Anyway, I went on walking home, thinking about the movie I just viewed, and then suddenly wishing I had some company. Greasers can't walk alone too much or they'll get jumped, or someone will scream "Greaser!" at them, which doesn't make you feel so hot, if you know what I mean. We get jumped by the Socs. I'm not sure how you spell it, but it's the abbreviation for the Socials, the jet set, the West-side rich kids. It's like the term "greaser", which is used to class all is boys on the East Side.

We're poorer than the Socs and the middle class. I believe we're wilder, too. Not like the Socs, who jump greasers and wreck houses and throw beer blasts for kicks, and get editorials in the paper for being a public disgrace one day and an asset to society the next. Greasers are almost like hoods; we steal things and drive up old souped-up cars and hold up gas stations and have a gang fight once in a while. I don't mean that I do things like that. Loki would kill me if I got in trouble with the police. Since Mom and Dad were killed in an auto wreck, the three of us get to stay together as long as we behave. So Loni and I stay out of trouble as much as we can, and we're careful not to get caught when we can't. I only mean that most greasers like that, just like we wear our hair long and dress in blue jeans and T-shirts, or leave our shirttails out and wear leather jackets and tennis shoes or boots. I'm not saying that either Socs or greasers are better; that's just how we are.

I could've waited to go to the movies until Loki or Loni got off work. They would have gone with me, or have me a ride there, or walked along, although Loni just can't sit still long enough to enjoy a movie and they bore Loki to death. Loki thinks his life is enough without inspecting other people's. Or I could have gotten one of the gang to come along, one of the four boys Loki and Loni and I have grown up and considered as family. We're almost as close as brothers; when you grow up in a tight-knit neighborhood like ours you get to know each other real well. If I thought about it, I could've called Loki and he would have picked me up on his way home from work. Or Two-Bit Lane, one of our gang would have come to get me in his car if I had asked him, but sometimes I just don't think things through. It really gets on Loki's nerves when I do stuff like that, 'because I'm supposed to be smart! I really do make good grades and also have a decent IQ and everything, but I just don't use my head. Besides, I like walking.

I about decided that I really didn't like it that much, though, when a red Corvair came into view and it seems to be trailing me. I was almost two blocks from home then, so I started to walk a little faster so whoever was following me didn't catch on. I had never been jumped, but I had seen Clyde after four of the Socs got a hold of him, and it wasn't pretty. Poor guy was scared of his own shadow after that. Clyde was sixteen at the time.

I knew that walking quickly wasn't going to be any use, though. I mean, before the Corvair pulled up beside me and five Socs got out. I got scared, I'm rather small for the age of fourteen even though I have a good build. But those guys were bigger than me! I automatically hitched my thumbs in my jeans and slouched, wondering if I could get away if I just make a break for it. I remembered Clyde, his face all cut up and bruised when we found him, half conscious, in the corner lot. Clyde had it rough at home, it took a lot to make him cry.

I began sweat even though I was cold. I could feel my palms geeging clammy and perspiration running down my back. I get like that when I'm real scared. I searched around for a soda bottle or a stick or something. Luke Randle, Loni's best friend, has once held off four guys with a busted bottle top. But unfortunately for me, there was nothing I could use. So I stood there like a bump on a log while they surrounded me. I just don't use my head! They walked around slowly, silently, smiling.

"Hey, grease," one said in an over-friendly voice. "We're gonna do you a favor, greaser. We're gonna cut all that long greasy hair off.". Okay, for starters, my hair is white so they could barely see the grease that much! The guy had in a madras shirt. I can still see it. Blue madras, I'm more of an Orange type of guy. One of them laughed, then cussed me out in a low voice. I couldn't think of anything to say. There isn't a whole lot you can say while getting mugged, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Need a haircut, greaser?" The middle-sized blond pulled out a knife from his back pocket and flipped the blade open.

"I finally thought of something to say. "No.". I was backing up, away from that knife. But of course with my luck, I backed right into one of them. They had me down for a second. My arms and legs were pinned while one of them sat on my chest with his knees on my elbows, and if you don't think that hurts, you're crazy. I could smell shaving lotion and stale tobacco, and I wondered foolishly if I could suffocate before they did anything to me. I was scared so bad that I was at the point where I wish I would. I fought to get loose, and for a second; then they tightened up on me and the one on my chest began to slug me. So I lay stil, swearing at them between gasps. A blade held against my throat.

"How'd you like that haircut to begin just below the chin?"

It occurred to me then that they could kill me. I went wild. I started screaming for Loni, Loki, anyone! Someone put his hand over my mouth, and I bit it as hard as I could, fasting the blood running through my teeth. I heard a muttered curse and got slugged again, and they were stuffing a handkerchief in my mouth. One of them kept saying, "Shut him up, for Pete's sake, shut him up!"

Then there were shouts and the pounding of feet. The Socs jumped up and left me lying there, gasping for breath. I lay there wondering what in the world was happening. People were jumping over me and running by me and I was too dazed to figure it out. Then someone had me under the armpits and was hauling me to my feet. It was Loki.

"Are you alright, Lincoln?" asked Loki

He was shaking me and I wished he'd stop. I was dizzy enough anyway. I could still tell it was Loki though, partly because of the voice and partly because Loki's always rough with me without meaning to be.

"I'm okay. Quit shaking me, Loki, I'm okay." I responded

He stopped instantly. "I'm sorry."

He wasn't really. Loki isn't ever sorry for anything he does. It seems funny to me that he should look exactly like my dad(besides having blonde hair like my mom) and exactly the opposite of him. My father was only forty when he died and he looked twenty-five and a lot of people thought Loki and Dad were brothers with different hair color instead of father and son. But they only looked alike. My dad was never rough with anyone unless he needed to.

Loki is six-feet-two, broad-shouldered, and muscular. He has blonde hair like my mom that kicks out in front and in the back like how Dad's was. But Loki's eyes are his own. He's got eyes that are like two pieces of pale blue-green ice. They've got a determined set to them, like the rest of him. He looks older than twenty. He's tough, cool, and smart. He would be real good looking if his eyes weren't so cold. He doesn't understand anything that isn't plain hard fact. But he uses his head.

I sat down again, rubbing my cheek where I'd been hit the most.

Loki jammed his fists into his pockets. "They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?"

They did. I was smarting and aching and my chest was sore. I was so nervous, my hands were shaking and I wanted to start bawling, but you just don't say that to Loki.

"I'm okay."

Loni came loping back. By then I had figured that all of the noise I had heard was the gang coming to rescue me. He dropped down beside me and started to examine my head.

"You got cut up a little, huh, Lincoln?" asked Loni

I only looked at him blankly. "I did?"

Loni pulled out a handkerchief, wet the end of it with his tongue, and pressed it gently against the side of my head.

"You're bleeding like a stuck pig." Loni stated

"I am?"

"Look!" He showed me the handkerchief, reddened as if by magic. "Did they pull a blade on you?"

I remembered the voice: Need a haircut, greaser?" The blade must have slipped while he was trying to shut me up.

"Yeah." I answered

Loni is better looking than anyone else I know. Not like Loki, Loni may be as handsome as a movie star but he's known to be not so bright. He's not as tall as Loki either. He's more slimmer but finely drawn, sensitive face that somehow manages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time. Loni's got the same blonde hair as like that e comes back long, silky, and straight. In the summer, the sun bleached it to a shining wheat-gold. His eyes are dark brown-lively, dancing, recklessly laughing eyes that can be gentle and sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next. He has Dad's eyes, but Loni is one of a kind. He can get drunk in a drag race or dancing without ever getting near alcohol. In our neighborhood it's rare to find a kid who doesn't drink once in a while. But Loni never touches a drop because he doesn't need to. He gets drunk on just plain living. And he understands everybody. He looked at me more closely. I looked away hurriedly, because, if you want to know the truth, I was starting to cry. I knew I was as white as I felt and I was shaking like a leaf.

Loni just put his hand in my shoulder. "Easy, Lincoln. There's nobody here to hurt you now."

"I know," I said, but the ground began to blur and I felt hot tears running down my cheeks. I brushed them away impatiently. "I'm just a little spooked, that's all." I drew a quivering breath and quit crying. You just don't cry in front of Loki. Not unless you're hurt like Clyde had been the day we found him in the vacant lot. Compared to Clyde, I wasn't hurt at all.

Loni rubbed my hair. "You're an okay kid, Lincoln."

I had to grin at him. Loni can make you grin no matter what. I guess it's because he's always grinning so much himself. "You're crazy, Loni, out of your mind."

Loki looked as if he'd like to knock our heads together.

"You're both nuts."

Loni merely cocked one eyebrow, a trick he'd picked up from Two-Bit Lane. "It seems to run in the family."

Loki stared at him for a second, then cracked a grin. Loni isn't afraid of him like everyone else and enjoys teasing him. I'd just as soon tease a full-grown grizzly; but for some reason, Loki seems to like being teased by Loni. Our gang had chased the Socs to their car and heaved rocks at them. They came running towards us now-four lean, hard guys. They were all as tough as nails and even if some members like Lane didn't look tough, then you had another thing comin'. I had grown up with them, and they accepted me as if we were a huge family. Sometimes I think of being in a family with five other brothers and they all fit the spots. Heh, had a crazy thought of having 10 brothers. Imagine instead of 10 brothers, I have 10 sisters. Strange, right? Anyways, they accepted me, even when I was younger, because I was Loki and Loni's twin kid brother and I kept my mouth shut good.

Luke Randle was fifteen, tall and lean, with thick greasy Mohawk he kept combed up. He's smart, cocky, and has a thing for music. He has also been Loni's best buddy since grade school. Lane's specialty(if not comedy) was cars. He could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyone in the neighborhood, but he also knew cars upside-down and backward, and he could drive anything on wheels. He and Loni worked at the same gas station-Luke part time and Loni full time-and their station got more customers than any other town. Whether that was because Luke was so good with cars or because Loni attracted girls like honey draws flies. I couldn't tell you. I liked Luke only because he was Loni's best friend. He didn't like me, he thought I was a tagalong and a kid; Loni always took me with them when they went places if they weren't taking girls, and that bugged Luke. It wasn't my fault; Loni always asked me, I didn't ask him. Loni doesn't think that I'm a kid.

Two-Bit Lane was the first youngest of the gang, being fourteen and the wisecracker of the bunch. He was about 5'7 feet tall, stocky in build, and very proud of his bowlcut and his long rusty-colored sideburns. He had gray eyes and a wide grin, and he couldn't stop making funny remarks to save his life. You couldn't shut him up that guy; he always had to get his two-bits worth in. Hence his name. Even his teachers forgot his real name was Lane Mathews, and we hardly remembered he had one. Life was one big joke to Two-Bit. He was famous for shoplifting and his black-handled switchblade(which he couldn't have acquired without his first talent), and he was always smarting off to the cops. He really couldn't help it. Everything he said was so irresistibly funny that he just had to let the police in on it to brighten up their dull lives(That's how he explained it to me). He likes fights, bruenettes, puns, and for some unfathomable reason, school. He's in High School but it seems like he never learned anything. He just went for kicks. I liked him real well because he kept us laughing at ourselves as well as at other things. He reminded me of Will Rogers-maybe it was the grin.

If I had to pick the real character of the gang, it would be Dallas Winston-Dally. I used to like to draw his picture when he was in a dangerous mood, for then I could get his personality down in a few lines. He had an elfish face, with high cheekbones and a pointed chin, small, shape animal teeth, and ears like a lynx. His hair was almost as white as mine because it was so blonde, and he didn't like haircuts, or hair oil either, so it fell over his forehead in wisps and kicked out the nape of his neck. His eyes were blue, blazing ice, cold with a hatred of the whole world. Dally has spent three years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at the age of ten. He was tougher than the rest of us together, colder, meaner. The shade of difference that separates a greaser from a good wasn't present in Dally. He was as wild as the boys in the downtown outfits, like Tim Shepard's gang.

In New York, Dally blew off steam in gang fights, but here, organized gangs are rarities-there are just small bunches of friends who stick together, and the warfare is between the social classes. A rumble, when it's called, is usually born of a grudge fight, and the opponents just happen to bring their friends along. Oh, there are a few named gangs around, like the River Kings and the Tiber Street Tigers, but here in the North there's no gang rivalry. So Dally, even though he could get into a good fight sometimes, has no specific thing to hate. No rival gang. Only Socs. And you can't win against them no matter how hard you try, because they've got all the breaks and even whipping them isn't going to change that fact. Maybe that was why Dallas was so bitter.

He had quite a reputation. They have a file on him down at the police station. He had been arrested, he got drunk, he rode in rodeos, lied, cheated, stole, rolled drunks, jumped small kids-he did everything. I didn't like him, but he was smart and you had to respect him.

Clyde McBride was last and least. I you can picture a dark puppy that has been kicked too many times and is lost in a crowd of strangers, you'll have Clyde. He was the youngest, next to me, smaller than the rest, with a slight build. He had blue eyes with big nerdy glasses and dark skin; his Afro was jet black with which he tends to grease from time to time. He had a nervous, suspicious look in his eyes, and that beating he got from the Socs didn't help matters. He was the gang's pet, everyone's kid brother. His father was always beating him up and his mother works too much. When she's home, however, she either lets her stress out on Clyde or his dad. I think he hated that worse than getting whipped. He would have run away a million times if we hadn't been there. If it hadn't been for us, Clyde would never have known what love and affection are.

I wiped my eyes hurriedly. "Didya catch 'em?" I asked

"Nup. They got away this time, the dirty..." Two-Bit Lane went in cheerefully, calling the Socs every name he could think of or make up.

"The kid's okay?"

"I'm okay." I tired to think of something to say. I'm usually pretty quiet around people, even the gang. I changed the subject. "I didn't know you were out of the cooler yet, Dally."

"Good behavior. Got off early." Dallas lit a cigarette and handed it to Clyde. Everyone sat down to have a smoke and relax. A smoke always lessens the tension. I had quit trembling and my color was back. The cigarette was calming me down. Two-bit cocked an eyebrow. "Nice-lookin' bruise you got there, kid."

I touched my cheek gingerly. "Really?"

Two-Bit nodded sagely. "Nice cut, too. Makes you look tough."

Tough and tuff are two different words. Tough is the same as rough; tuff means cool, sharp-like a tuff-looking Mustang or a tuff record. In our neighborhood both are compliments.

Luke flicked his ashes at me. "What were you doin', walking home on your lonesome?" Leave it to good old Luke to bring up something like that.

"I was comin' home from the movies. I didn't think..."

"You don't ever think," Loki broke in, "not at home or anywhere when it counts. You must think at school with all those good grades you bring home, and you've always got your nose in those comics, but do you ever use your head for common sense? No sirree, bub. And if you did have to go by yourself, you should have carried a blade."

I just stared at the hole in the toe of my tennis shoe. Me and Loki just didn't dig each other. I never could please him. He would have hollered at me for carrying a blade if I _had_ carried one. If I brought home B's, he wanted A's. If I was playing football, I should be studying, and if I were reading, I should be out playing football. He never yelled at Loni-not even when Loni dropped out of school or got tickets for speeding. It was always me.

Loni was glaring at him. "Leave my kid brother alone, you hear? It ain't his fault he likes to go to the movies, and it ain't his fault the Socs like to jump us, and if he had been carrying a blade it would have been a good excuse to cut him to ribbons."

Loni always takes up for me.

Loki said impatiently, "When I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I'll ask you-kid brother." But he laid off me. He always does when Loni tells him to. Most of the time.

"Next time get one of us to go with you, Lincoln," Two-Bit said. "Any of us will."

"Speakin' if movies"-Dally yawned, flipping away his cigarette butt-"I'm walkin' over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anyone want to come and hunt some action?"

Luke shook his head. "Me and Loni are pickin' up Evie and Sandy for the game."

He didn't need to look at me the way he did right then. I wasn't going to ask if I could come. I'd never tell Loni, because he really likes Luke a lot, but sometimes I can't stand Luke Randal. I mean it. Sometimes I hate him!

Loki sighed, just like I knew he would. Loki never had time to do anything anymore. "I'm working tomorrow night."

Dally sighed at the rest of us. "How about y'all? Two-Bit? Clydycake, you and Linc wanta come?"

"Me and Clyde'll come," I said. I knew Clyde wouldn't open his mouth unless he was forced to."Okay, Loki?"

"Yeah, since it ain't a school night." Loki was real good about letting me go places on the weekends. On school nights I could barely leave the house.

"I was plannin' in getting boozed up tomorrow night." said Two-Bit

"Aren't you too young for that stuff?" asked Loki

Two-Bit shrugged. "Can't get into trouble if you're not caught. But if I don't, I'll walk over and find y'all."

Luke was looking at Dally's hand. His ring, which he had rolled a drunk senior to get, was back on his finger.

"You break up with Sylvia again?"

"Yeah, and this time for good. That little broad was two-timin' me again while I was in jail."

I thought of Sylvia and Evie and Sandy and Two-Bit's many blondes. They were only the kind of girls that would look at us, I thought. Tough, loud girls who wore too much eye makeup and giggled and swore too much. I like Loni's girl Sandy just fine, though. Her hair was naturally blond and her laugh was soft, like her china-blue eyes. She didn't have a real good home or anything and was our kind-greaser-but she was a real nice girl. Still, lots of times I wondered what other girls were like. The girls who were bright-eyed and had their dresses a decent length and acted as if they'd spit on us if give the chance. Some were afraid of us, and remembering Dallas. I didn't blame them. But most looked at us like we were dirt-gave us the same kind of look that the Socs did when they came by in their Mustangs and Corvairs and yelled "Grease!" at us. I wondered about them. The girls, I mean...Did they cry when their boys were arrested, like Evie did when Luke got hauled in, or did they run out on them the way Sylvia did Dallas? But maybe their boys didn't get arrested or beaten up or busted up in rodeos.

I was still thinking about it while I was doing my homework that night. I had to read " _Great Expectations"_ for English, and that kid Pip, he reminded me of us-the way he felt marked lousy because he wasn't a gentleman or anything, and the way that girl kept looking down on him. That happened to me once. One time in biology I had to dissect a worm, and the razor wouldn't cut, so I used my switchblade. The minute I flicked it out-I forgot what I was doing or I would never have done it-this girl right beside me(I think her name was Paige) kind of gasped, and said, "They are right. You are a hood." That didn't make me feel so hot. There were a lot of Socs in that class- I get put into _A_ classes because I'm supposed to be smart-and most of them thought it was pretty funny. I didn't, though. She was a cute girl. She looked real good in yellow.

We deserve a lot of our trouble, I thought. Dallas deserves everything he gets, and should get worse, if you want the truth. And Two-Bit-he doesn't really want or need half the things he swipes from stores. He just thinks it's fun to swipe everything that isn't nailed down. I can understand why Loni and Luke get into drag races and fights so much, though-both of them have too much energy, too much feeling, with no way to blow it off.

"Rub harder, Loni," I heard Loki mumbling. "You're gonna put me to sleep."

I looked through the door. Loni was giving Loki a back-rub. Loki was always pulling muscles; he roofs houses and he's always trying to carry two bundles of roofing up the ladder. I knew Loni would put him to sleep, because Loni could put about anyone out when he sets his head to it. He thought that Loki worked too hard anyway. I did, too.

Loki didn't deserve to work like an old man when he was only twenty. He had been a real popular guy in school; he was captain of the football team and he had been voted Boy of the Year(managing to beat Carl Pingrey for once). But we just didn't have the money for him to go to college, even with the athletic scholarship he won. And now he didn't have time between jobs to even think about college. So he never went anywhere and never did anything anymore, except work out at gyms and go skiing with some old friends of his sometimes.

I rubbed my cheek where it had turn purple. I had looked in the mirror, and it did make me look tough. But Loki had me put a Band-aid on the cut. I remembered how awful Clyde had looked when he got beaten up. I had just as much right to use the streets as the Socs did, and Clyde had never hurt them. Why did the Socs hate us so much? We left them alone. I nearly went to sleep over my homework trying to figure it out.

Loni, who had jumped into bed by this time, yelled sleepily for me to turn off the light and get to bed. When I finished the chapter I was on, I did.

Lying beside Loni, staring at the wall, I kept remembering the faces of the Socs as they surrounded me, that blue madras shirt the blonde was wearing, and I could still hear a thick voice: "Need a haircut, greaser?" I shivered.

"You cold, Lincoln?" asked Loni

"A little." I lied. Loni threw one arm across my neck. He mumbled something drowsily. "Listen, kiddo, when Loki hollers at you...he don't mean nothing'. He's just got more worries than someone his age should have. Don't take him serious...you dig, Linc? Don't let him bug you. He's really proud of you 'cause you're so brainy. It's just because you're a baby-I mean, he loves you a lot. Savvy?"

"Sure," I said, trying for Loni's sake to keep sarcasm out of my voice.

"Loni?"

"Yeah?"

"How come you dropped out?" I never gotten over that. I could hardly stand it when he left for school.

" 'Cause I'm dumb. The only things I was passing were mechanics and gym."

"You're not dumb." I told him

"Yeah, I am. Shut up and I'll tell you something. Don't tell Loki, though."

"Okay."

"I think I'm gonna marry Sandy. After she gets out of school and I get a better job and everything. I might wait till you get out of school, though. So i can help Loki with the bills and stuff."

"Tuff enough. Wait till I get out, though, so you can keep Loki off my back."

"Don't be like that, bro. I told you he don't mean half of what he says..."

"You in love with Sandy? What's it like?" I ask

"Hhhmmm." he sighed happily. "It's real nice."

In a moment his breathing was light and regular. I turned my head to look at him and in the moonlight he looked like some Greek god come to earth. I wondered how he can stand it being so good looking and a girl magnet. Then I sighed. I didn't quite get what he meant about Loki. Loki thought I was just another mouth to feed and somebody to holler at. Loki love me? I thought of those hard, pale eyes. Loni was wrong for once, I thought. Loki doesn't love anyone or anything, except maybe Loni. I didn't hardly think of him as being human. I don't care, I lied to myself, I don't care about him either. Loni's enough, and I'd have him until I got out of school. I don't care about Loki. But I was still lying and I knew it. I lie to myself all the time!

But I never believe me.

* * *

 **This story has been in development heck since October of last year. I wanted to have this chapter out already but I either forgot, procrastinated, or just didn't have any interest. I really wanted to make this a full story but there are other things that I need to complete and ideas that I want to work on. So this story will be a one-shot.**

 **Emmaelise401, I apologize if this isn't all that you wanted but I really tried. But if you guys want, I may continue this one day but I can't make any promises. Or, you guys can do your own version of this story if you desire or just continue where I left off. Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this one-shot of my favorite story with a Loud House mix to it. And the best part about the outsiders book is that it practically matches the character's personalities with some of the Loud characters.**

 **God Bless.**


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